Save me someone, please
by AmayaRyder
Summary: AU,tenth walker.Krys is a young girl living with her abusive father. She had only one rule for herself. Silence. When she arrives in a strange, new world, will she trust anyone enough to let them hear her voice. Rated for detailed child abuse, violence an
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Krys and John (at this point anyway).

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Prologue 

"You little bitch! Get in here now! Don't make me come get you!" The voice belonged to a large, heavyset man who at that moment was standing in a living room saturated with beer cans and empty bottles of vodka. He was around forty years old with greying black hair and dark brown eyes. At his yell a small, thin girl of around sixteen years of age scurried into the room, flinching at the cold, hard gaze the fell on her. The girl had long black hair that fell to her waist. It had white streaks in it, though you couldn't tell at the time. He hated the streaks so he had her dye her hair completely black. Her eyes were strange as well. They were a deep, rich amber. Both aspects of her physical character were natural, which made him hate her all the more. Her name was somewhat long and unusual but her mother was unable to have any more children due to complications with the birth, so she had put her favourite names together to make her only daughter's. Her name, in its entirety was Krysanthe Alera Valari Amethyst McRae. The man was her father, John McRae.

John stared with hatred at the young girl as she cowered in front of him. "Didn't I tell you to have this place cleaned up by the time I got home?" The young girl shrank back more. His eyes grew colder as he lifted his hand and backhanded the girl, sending her off her feet into the wall behind. "Well? Answer me when I speak to you, you pathetic little runt." Krys lifted her head and quickly stumbled to her feet at the glare she was receiving before replying in a small voice that he did. "Then why didn't you?" Krys hesitated before saying that she hadn't the time. In all honesty she knew this would happen, it always did. Every night her father came home from work and crashed on the sofa. He always drank a lot and then went on a rampage through the house breaking things and generally making a mess. He would then leave with orders for her to clean the house, but to save the living room for last. She had tried doing it first, but he had gone through the house searching everywhere and found the rooms she hadn't yet had time to do. She never did it again; it only made the punishment worse. "Didn't have time? I gave you plenty of time you little whore!" He yelled at her before grabbing her by the hair and pulling her by it up the stairs behind him. "I've had it with you! You're pathetic! Can't even do one little job right, well now you'll pay!"

He opened the door to a small room at the end of the upstairs hall. Anyone unused to the smell of blood would have gagged upon entering the room, but both of them were used to it and he basked in it. In the room was a single bed, stripped of sheets, the mattress saturated in dried blood and a single desk. He dragged her over to her bed, flung her on it and handcuffed her face down on it. He stripped her of her clothes before wandering over to the desk and selecting a small, sharp knife. He returned to the bed, gleefully anticipating the event that was about to take place. He looked down on her bruised and broken body revelling in the red scars that contrasted so well with her pale skin. Marks covered her body. Words engraved on her skin showed his thoughts – 'Worthless', 'Whore', 'Bitch' and 'Pathetic' being the most common. He held the knife almost gracefully in his fingers, like an perverted artist with a masterpiece, before he descended it onto the living canvas below him. She didn't whimper, didn't scream, didn't make a sound. It would only anger him. Her silence was maintained as he pierced her skin, slowly drew the knife down and lifted it away to admire his work, before starting the process again. She was silent still as he turned her over and repeated his work and she was silent still as he divested himself of his clothes and repeated the act that stole her innocence.

"You know," he said as he pulled himself from her, "You remind me so much of your mother. She was weak, pathetic, useless, just like you." He lifted the knife. "I met someone today, a woman. She hates children, doesn't know I have one, doesn't want one." He traced the knife over her pale stomach. "She and I are going to run off to Vegas, elope, and me? I'm not going to need you any more, now am I?" Her eyes widened as the knife stopped and pushed slowly into the skin on her stomach. "But I can't let you go, can I? What if you told?" The knife went deeper. "So I suppose tonight was my way of saying… goodbye I suppose." He plunged the knife the rest of the way into her stomach. She bit down hard on her tongue and blood filled her mouth. He leaned over her, sneering at the pain on her face, before chuckling dryly and kissing her softly on the forehead. "Goodnight sweet." In a first act of defiance she spat the collected blood in his face and said, clearly, "See you in Hell." After that she knew no more.

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Hey, everyone! This is a bit of a change of pace for me. White Moon Pack isn't going well and I've wanted to write this for ages. I finally gave in. I've decided that I'm going to put my new HP story on hold for a while, until I sort out WMP and this one, as I like this one better. I'm also going to take a break from WMP for two weeks after I put up the new chapter. Well, I'd appreciate it if you'd tell me what you think, or how I could improve, so thanks if you do and I'll answer any questions you have. Thanks for reading and I'll try to update as soon as I can but I'm making no promises as I've just returned from hospital for personal reasons that I'm uncomfortable with sharing. 


	2. Chapter 1 Golden Silence

Chapter one – Golden Silence 

The first thing Krys noticed when she woke up was the voices. Light, musical voices. Then came the pain. Sharp pain shot through her stomach, twisting her face into a grimace. She almost let out a groan until she remembered – noises make the pain worse. The voices got louder, more excited. Someone hushed them and then one voice spoke clearly, "Child, can you hear me?" Krys hesitated for just a moment before nodding. Moving hurt, but not answering would be a bad mistake.

"Open your eyes Child." Krys forced her eyes open, struggling to obey. The voice didn't sound angry, or like it was going to hurt her, but then her father used to sound nice. The moment she opened her eyes she immediately shut them again. The light was painful, but mindful of her father's lessons she opened them again before exhaling sharply through her teeth. Voices talked in a language she didn't understand before the light in the room dimmed. Krys blinked as her eyesight sharpened and adjusted. She was surrounded by four people, but they were strange. They were all tall with dark hair and pointed ears. One of them was a female and the others were male. Two of them looked exactly the same. 'Twins,' she thought.

The tallest one stared at her for a second then, as if making a decision, said, "Hello, Child, my name is Lord Elrond." Krys stared at him with wide eyes. 'Lord? I didn't think there were lords in America.' Elrond continued, "These are my sons Elrohir and Elladan," he said motioning to the twins, who bowed, "and my daughter Arwen," he motioned to the female who curtsied. He paused for a moment, taking in Krys's awed expression. She thought they were all gorgeous and she felt wholly inadequate when compared to them.

"Would you tell us your name Child?" Krys stared for a second, opened her mouth then closed it and looked down. Krys was confused. Her father had punished when she spoke and when she didn't reply. Then one of the brothers spoke up, giving her the answer she needed, "Maybe the girl is mute?" Krys looked at him, startled, then thought to herself. 'If they think I can't talk then maybe I won't be punished if I answer silently, in head shakes and nods?' Krys personally thought it was a long shot, but she was willing to try anything. She looked down and forced a blush onto her face.

"I think you may be right Elladan," replied Elrond and then turned to Krys, "My child, there is nothing for you to be ashamed of," he said lifting her chin, "After all, I'm sure it's not your fault you can't speak." Krys looked at him intensely, looking for signs he was trying to lure her into a false sense of security, but found none. Slowly she nodded. Elrond smiled, "Right then, child," he said, "Can you read and write?" Krys nodded. "Good, we shall get you a bath and Arwen can help you find something suitable to wear. Then I'm sure she can escort you to my study, we shall find out your name there." Another nod.

The bath felt good. She scrubbed dirt and grime from her skin and hair, being careful of recent scars. The water turned black. After she got out, Arwen was waiting with a white dress with gold embroidery. As soon as Arwen turned around to greet her from the window she was looking out, she gave a small gasp. Krys cocked her head to the side. Arwen pointed to her own hair, looking confused now. Krys walked over to the mirror and smiled widely. The hair dye she had been using to cover the streaks in her hair had finally washed out after six weeks of trying.

Arwen took one look at her face when the young girl turned around and decided she could live with strange hair if it made the girl this happy. She presented the dress to Krys and helped her into it. Then, as her father had ordered escorted the girl to his private study. Walking in, Krys was amazed. Hundreds of books, maybe thousands, covered the walls of the room. Large, magnificent windows let in huge amounts of light, causing the place to almost sparkle. Elrond, watching her from his desk, chuckled at the awe on her face. She turned at the noise, taking a step back. Two other people were with him, an old man with a grey beard and a young man who looked rather dirty. Elrond stood. "Child this is Gandalf the Grey and Estel. Gandalf is an Istar, Estel is my adopted son." Both stood up to greet her, but she took a step back, terror filled eyes trained on Estel. "Child?" Elrond took a step towards her. Her eyes snapped to him and she calmed down. She bowed her head in apology towards Estel. 'Stupid!' she thought to herself, 'Your going to get yourself beaten, then where will you be?'

"None taken, milady," replied Estel. He looked thrown at what had just occurred. "Well, let's get started then shall we?" Gandalf's voice was as grandfatherly as he looked. "Yes," replied Elrond, looking shaken himself. He motioned for Krys to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk and Arwen took one between her and the men. The Elrond handed her a feather and asked her to write her name. Using the inkwell Elrond placed beside her she carefully worked out how to use the quill and managed to write in rather large letters _Krysanthe Alera Valari Amethyst McRae_. "Pretty," remarked Arwen from beside her. Elrond nodded. She then continued and wrote _Krys_ underneath. "Krys? Very well, if that's what you prefer, that's what you will be called," Responded Elrond, "and you may live here for the time being, until you feel ready to leave." Krys looked at him, eyes wide. Then a smile blossomed on her face, then it developed into a full-fledged grin. Elrond smiled, he was sure the young girl would be the centre of everyone's hearts but the time she left. Then he noticed something, "What happened to your hair, Child?"

Hihi people, great to see you again. Kk, for any of you who don't read WMP, I have been in hospital for the last month or so, first for surgery, now for Physiotherapy, which isn't going well I'm afraid. I almost had this chapter finished so I got my friend Alex to finish typing it up and putting it up, which is funny since she's a bit of a technophobe, so big thanks to her. Kk, reviews…

MiniFruitBat – Actually, judging from my stories it's possible to say that my mind has a liking for these sorts of things, you know the hero/ine rising above a jaded past into happiness sort of thing. I just obey my mind, insane though it may be.


	3. Chapter 2 Sword and Pen

Hello, people! READ THIS! I need your opinion on something. Should this be a Tenth Walker story? I'm heavily leaning towards it. Right well, thanks for reading and now for the disclaimer: I own nothing at all except my favourite teddies Tau (a lion), Avalanche (a Siberian husky), and my new one for christmas , Whiskers (a leopard).

Chapter two – Sword and Pen

She loved the library and spent most of her time either there or with one of the twins. Krys had been living with Elrond and his family for over a month now and she knew when something was wrong. Elrond had been irritable lately, so she was trying to stay out of his way. She wanted to spend more time with Arwen, but Arwen had been spending all her time with Estel. She was excited today, though. Elladan and Elrohir were taking her to get a horse so she could learn to ride. They told her they would come get her after they finished speaking with their father.

'Speak of the Devil,' she thought as they walked through the library doors. "Good day, Krys," they said in unison. She nodded at them and gave them a rare smile. "Excited then?" asked Elladan. She just smiled again. The twins smiled at each other then each bowed and offered an arm with a 'milady'. Krys did a little curtsey and put one hand on each of their arms. The twins led her out to the paddock where the rider-less horses were being kept. Elladan explained what she had to do. "You have to walk through the herd until either you see a horse you like, or a horse comes up to you. If it's a case of you seeing the horse, you have to see if the horse will accept you by teaching it your scent. You do that by gently blowing into its nose." Krys nodded then climbed over the fence. Walking through the herd she gave them all pats as she looked over them. As she was looking over a chestnut brown horse she felt a nudge on her back. Turning around, she saw one of the strangest looking horses she'd ever seen.

The horse was tall, about seventeen hands, and solidly built, but still lithe. She, as it was a mare, was strangely coloured. Some of the horses in the paddock were white and black, but none of them were like this one. She had a pure white body but her mane and tail were the deepest black. Her eyes were amazing, a pure, clear blue. Krys blew gently into the horses' nose, like she was told and the mare returned the favour. Then she led the mare back to where the twins were talking quietly. They looked up on hearing her approach and their jaws dropped. Krys tilted her head in question. Elrohir explained, "That mare has never accepted anyone, though everyone who has entered the paddock has tried. She is quite the prize." Krys looked up at the mare, then back at the twins, then back at the mare. She thought for a moment, then looked at the twins and shrugged. After that the twins showed her how to saddle her horse and how to walk her, the mare behaved wonderfully, although she was a bit excitable. 'I really have to get a name for her,' thought Krys, 'I can't keep calling her 'the mare', even if it is only in my head.

The next day Krys spent mostly in the library searching for a name for her horse. When the twins came to look for her she got them to translate a few things. She just thanked whatever powers were out there that they could read and write common, as well as speak it. She finally settled for a name – Ithildae or Moon Shadow. She and the twins called the mare Dae for short.

Soon after she had chosen the name for her mare, Estel left Imladris to go on an errand for Elrond. Krys didn't know what was happening, but she had a feeling it was bad, especially when the twins told her they were to patrol the borders. Before they went, however, they started to teach her the sword and bow. I was okay with the bow, but nowhere near a natural. The sword I was better at, but still not the best. The day before they left they decided to try me on a weapon called a Glaive. Essentially a spear with a long blade instead of a point. It seemed as if I had found the weapon for me. The twins promised to teach me more when they returned but until then they gave me a few basic practises to do.

It had been well over a month since Estel had left Imladris on Elronds errand; now Krys had heard that Glorfindel was being sent to find him and four companions – Hobbits. She had read about hobbits and she had met Bilbo, who enjoyed reading as much as she did. Bilbo had told her many tales and she loved hearing them. It had been just over a week since Glorfindel had set out, but word travelled fast around the palace that he had returned with a hobbit. Krys ran to the healing rooms and sure enough, there was Elrond. She walked over to Glorfindel, who was standing over at the side, and tugged on his sleeve, silently asking if there was anything she could do to help. Elrond looked over and spied her. Motioning her over he gave a small list of things he needed and asked her to get them. Thankfully they were all things she knew about. She nodded then took off to the storerooms. Collecting everything she brought them back and continued to get Elrond anything he needed for the rest of the day.

A day or two after Frodo, the hobbit, arrived, Estel returned to Imladris. He was tired, sore and hungry, as were his companions. So she herded them first to food, then rooms for sleep. She organised baths to be taken up to their rooms in no less than ten hours, as they most likely wouldn't wake till then. If they were not awake by then, she wrote, then they were to be woken. During the day or two it had taken them to arrive, strange people had been arriving. Elves, dwarves and finally men arrived and still were. I asked Elrond about it and finally, after staring at me for a moment he told me he was holding a council, but that it was a secret. I was surprised when he asked me if I wanted to join. I bit my lip and thought hard. It might be interesting, but there would be strangers there. Finally, after much debating I nodded. I was to attend the council of Elrond.

Hi again folks. Okay so this is definitely Mary-sue like. Hmm, oh well it's not like I have control over this, my brain doesn't share with me. Ok, reviews.

Armariel – Thankies, I love reviewers. Your really nice to say and here's more.

Helkardowen – Thankies, Kk, about Estel. This is a fellowship story, so he's 81 but you know he looks thirty. Krys, whose father was an alcoholic was about forty and showed his age more than normal, because of the drink. So seeing how her father looks at his age, she thinks that because Estel looks like he does he is much younger than her father. Also he was sitting beside Gandalf, no explanation needed.

Ariti – I thank you for your views. Though my name is far from ordinary in itself, I can see where you might have a problem with my Characters'. Although I admit that in itself the abuse was a bit detailed, I felt the rape was not. I must ask that if you are going to review my story past 'Please review', keep your criticism constructive and preferably neutral. Finally I must ask that you do not insult the name Krysanthe. My friend, who's name that happens to be, was very insulted when she read your review, she was where I got the character's first name and she happens to like it.

Youko Demon – Thank you, your comments were very encouraging.

As a parting note, I finally am able to walk, with only crutches, but it still hurts, but I might be able to update faster.


	4. Chapter 3 Nine or Ten?

Chapter three – Nine or Ten?

The day of the council dawned bright and early and as always, Krys was up with the sun. She headed outside as had become her routine to see Dae. She saddled her mare and put her through her paces before going for a run around the outskirts of Imladris. After stabling Dae, she walked back to her room to grab her glaive, then headed outside to the practice fields where she went through her routine of blocks, strikes and jabs. When she was finished she headed in for a bath then breakfast in the dining hall.

Krys sat down, grabbed some food and immediately started eating. A cough interrupted her train of thought and she looked up to several elves watching her. One of the elves said something in elvish, so she just tilted her head in a questioning way. The only thing she understood was 'hello'. The elf repeated his question in common, he wanted to know her name. Krys looked around a bit before spotting Arwen. She waved her over.

"Hello, Krys, how are you today?" she asked. Krys nodded then tilted her head. "I'm fine," Arwen replied to her silent question. Krys motioned to the elves that were watching the two curiously, then tapped her throat. Arwen nodded, then explained, "Krys is mute, I'm afraid you will get few, if any, answers." The elf who had asked my name stood and bowed. "That is fine, milady, we were merely curious as to the lady's name." Krys frowned then looked at Arwen, who giggled. "Krys would like me to tell you she is mute, not deaf and can hear your questions fine. Therefore she asks that you do not talk about her as if she is not here."

"I am most sorry, milady," he replied to Krys, "I meant no offence."

Krys's face relaxed and she waved her hand in the way that meant 'it's okay' before returning to her meal. She motioned for Arwen to sit beside her, which she gratefully did. "I've been on my feet for an age," she explained, "with all these visitors at once, everybody has to be arranged so and so. After all you can't put dwarves and elves in the same hall or at the same table, and two of the Dwarf clans are disagreeing at the moment, so they can't be beside each other. It's exhausting." Krys patted her arm sympathetically then motioned across the hall. "Things are fine," replied Arwen, "He's really quite a gentleman, despite how rough he looks." Krys giggled silently.

Krys and Arwen ate in silence for a while before Krys stood. She nodded to Arwen and bowed to the other elves at the table, then left the hall deep in thought. When she reached her room she grabbed her favourite shawl and her book on medicinal plants before heading to the council, which was scheduled to begin soon. Entering the small garden where the council was being held she looked to Elrond who motioned for her to sit beside the elf who had asked her name at breakfast. She curtsied and complied.

Krys only had to wait a few minutes before the rest of the people arrived. She shrank back slightly from the men, but stopped moving when the elf beside her looked at her. She looked to Elrond, who smiled reassuringly, before taking a deep breath and paying attention as the council began.

Everyone looked to Elrond as he spoke, "Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle-Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate--this one doom. Bring forth the ring, Frodo." Krys watched as Frodo rose and laid a small gold ring onto a pedestal in the centre of the garden.

A man spoke, "So it is true…" The man stood, "In a dream, I saw the eastern sky grow dark. But in the West a pale light lingered. A voice was crying: Your doom is near at hand." He walked towards the ring, "Isildur's Bane is found." The man reached towards the ring. Elrond rose, "Boromir!" He yelled. A harsh chant started up and Krys covered her ears. Gandalf stood and started speaking in the same language, "_Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul._" Thunder boomed and the sky darkened. The man, Boromir, returned to his seat as the commotion died down.

Elrond looked at Gandalf furiously. "Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here in Imladris!" He yelled. Gandalf's voice was raspy as he spoke, "I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West! The Ring is altogether Evil!" Gandalf looked scathingly at Boromir, who ignored him as he stood once again.

"It is a gift. A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this ring?" he said as he started to pace, "Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him!" Estel stood to face him. "You cannot wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

Boromir sneered at Estel and replied, "And what would a Ranger know of this matter?" The Elf beside my stood angrily, "This is no mere Ranger. He is Aragorn, son or Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance." Boromir looked stunned. "Aragorn? This… is Isildur's heir?" The Elf replied, "And heir to the throne of Gondor." Krys was amazed, and she saw Frodo was too, Estel was a prince, and he didn't seem too happy that everyone knew. "_Havo dad, Legolas_" he told the elf. So, Legolas was his name. 'I'll have to remember that,' Krys thought.

As much as Estel didn't like the revelation, Boromir seemed to hate it. "Gondor has no king," he said, " Gondor needs no king." Krys felt relieved when he finally sat down, Estel too. Gandalf spoke, "Aragorn is right. We cannot use it." Elrond continued, "You have one choice. The ring must be destroyed." At this point one of the dwarves rose from he seat, yelled, "Then what are we waiting for?" and brought an axe down hard upon the ring. The axe shattered and the dwarf was thrown back. The evil voice once again issued forth from the ring and above it Elrond replied, "The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Glóin, by any craft that we here possess. The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."

The council was silent. Krys saw that most of them stared at Elrond in disbelief. Boromir in particular looked strangely at him. "One does not simply walk into Mordor. Its black gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. And the great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland. Riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly!" He replied. Legolas looked indignant, "Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The ring must be destroyed!"

Gimli jumped to his feet, "And I suppose you think you're the one to do it?"

Boromir spoke again, "And what if we fail, what then?! What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?!"

Gimli rose his voice above Boromir's, "I will be dead before I see the ring in the hands of an elf. Never trust an elf." Krys thought this was unfair, and apparently, so did the elves. The council broke into loud arguments and Krys slouched down in her seat and covered her ears and flashbacks raced through her mind. Her father standing over her with a knife. Her mother's scream as she died.

Anger, pain and misery clouded her senses until, "I will take it!" Krys opened her eyes as the council quieted, Frodo had stood and walked to the centre of the small garden. "I will take the Ring to Mordor. Though-- I do not know the way," he said. Gandalf walked towards him, "I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear." Estel followed, "If by my life or death, I can protect you, I will." He knelt before Frodo, "You have my sword."

Legolas walked over, "And you have my bow."

Gimli joined them, "And my axe." Although he looked grimly at Legolas as he joined the group. Boromir walked slowly towards the group, "You carry the fate of us all little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done." Krys's head whipped to the side as a voice came from the bushes, "Heh! Mr. Frodo is not goin' anywhere without me!" Krys smiled as Sam joined the group and Elrond replied, amused, "No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." Sam had the decency to look at least a little repentant.

However, even Elrond was surprised when Merry and Pippin ran out to join the group yelling, "Wait, we're coming too!" Merry continued, "You'd have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!"

"Anyway you need people of intelligence on this sort of mission, quest... thing," said Pippin. Everyone looked amused as Merry replied,

"Well, that rules you out, Pip."

Elrond mused, "Nine companions," suddenly he stopped and looked over at Krys. "Krys, I wish for you to go with them." Everyone was shocked. Then Boromir spoke, "A female? What use will she be? She would but slow us down." But neither Krys nor Elrond was listening. Krys stared hard at Elrond, looking into his eyes, trying to see his reasons in his emotions. There was nothing but truth, trust, and sorrow that he must ask this of her.

She nodded, stood and walked to the group. She stopped at Frodo and looked him in the eye before bowing her head and standing beside Legolas. "Enough Boromir, son of Denethor." Said Elrond, "It will be done, she has agreed. Ten companions… So be it! You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring!"

Well, here it is. I'm all better, physio is finished, and I have to say, thank the lord!!! I had a bit of time and a few ideas, so I decided to write a little. School is hell, catching up on almost a year's work is not fun but, hey my own fault. Anyway, sorry bout that, thank you for your reviews and for anyone who reads WMP I'm a bit stuck, so it might not be updated for a bit.

Blondie, Gossamer and Youko – Thank you, I really appreciate your reviews, it's good to know people like your stories.

Helkardowen – I'm sorry, I suppose it's because I keep thinking of changing it to first person, I'll try to make sure I don't make the same mistake again, but the only Beta reader I have is Alex, and she's about as good at English as I am.

Ariti – I'm sorry for my rather… acidic reply, but I was in a bit of pain that day and Krys was rather upset. I know you didn't mean much by it and I've often scoffed at the flowery names myself, but I just thought each name was pretty and I couldn't choose so I stuck them all in.


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